Between the Lines
by suezahn
Summary: Mid-TESB. This is the old, originally printed version of this story. This was also my first introduction of Kristin, Leia's confidant. STAR aWARdS Best Long Story 1995. If you read, please review.


**Between the Lines**

by Susan Zahn

_Love is a warfare: sluggards be dismissed,  
No faint-heart 'neath this banner may enlist.  
Storms, darkness, anguish, weary trails you'll find  
On love's campaign, and toil of every kind._  
-- Ovid, _The Love Poems_

Ice crunched loudly as the landing pads of the _Millennium Falcon_ settled onto the frozen cave floor of the Rebel Alliance's new base on Hoth.

Han Solo killed the retros before casting a dubious gaze out the cockpit canopy at the carved-out ice cave the Rebel technicians had fashioned from what could accurately be described as a pile of rock and snow. After a silent moment, he turned slightly to frown at his hairy co-pilot. "What have we gotten ourselves into this time?"

Chewbacca did a double take before returning his attention to shutting down the ship's systems. We?

Solo stared out the viewport again, morbid curiosity making him study the ceiling of the ice cave. "Do I need to remind you that sticking around long enough to help them relocate to this snowball was your brilliant idea?"

The Wookiee shrugged. It was my suggestion, but your decision.

Getting to his feet, Solo shook his head in exasperation. It was no use arguing with the Wook, especially when he was right.

Resting his hands on the _Falcon's_ forward dash, Han gave their new base a closer look. Thermal-suited flight techs and other military personnel hustled throughout the base, weaving and working between the assortment of X-Wings and terrain speeders parked in double rows.

Compared to Argus, the last base they'd been forced to abandon, this place was positively claustrophobic. It was no wonder that this particular cell of the Rebellion had been compelled to divide its personnel yet again between two new smaller bases, the one here on Hoth and another on Sullust. There simply wasn't enough room at either base to house the entire complement of fighters and transport craft. Consequently, Hoth would be severely understaffed. At least until newly trained personnel could arrive.

Finished with his portion of shutdown duties, Chewbacca realized that his friend was actively lingering. Unable to resist, the Wookiee settled back into his customized bucket seat and asked with a nonchalant hoot: What, no royal welcoming committee?

Han turned around, his frown deepening in annoyance at seeing his partner's pseudo innocence. Chewbacca, as usual, was too perceptive for Han's peace of mind. "Wise ass."

It's been seventeen days since she last saw you. Perhaps she's warmed up again since Ord Mantell.

At hearing that now hated name, Solo abruptly reached above his head to switch off all the remaining systems save climate control and lighting. "On this ice ball?" Han muttered as he passed between their seats on his way towards the cockpit exit. "I wouldn't bet on it."

Frustrated was too mild a description for how Han felt when he thought about Princess Leia Organa, sacred icon of the Rebellion and all-around Propaganda Minister. She had been growing so very friendly towards him lately. That is, until all chaos had broken loose during their recent, "simple" mission to Ord Mantell. Even before they'd left the orbital satellite, she'd retreated to a cool indifference that Han found more maddening than her previous insistence on keeping their relationship platonic. He still hadn't gotten a chance to confront her regarding the reversal of attitude. They'd returned just in time to join in the forced evacuation of Argus; and then Han and Chewbacca had been busy shuttling back and forth between there and the other newly established base on Sullust. Now feeling as if he and Leia were back to square one again, Han debated whether continuing to pursue her was even worth the effort.

A short time later, after donning an under-layer of thermal clothing, plus a dark blue jacket, Han stepped out of the falcon and into the sheltered yet chilly air of the base. Before he reached the bottom of the ramp, however, a pungent aroma that had nothing to do with spaceship mechanics or base engineering assaulted his nose. Drawing up short on the incline, Solo dared another cautious whiff, then grimaced and glanced around with renewed curiosity. Due to its sheer unpleasantness, the rank odor had to be organic waste by-product. 'Great.' He could just imagine the latest Alliance recruiting slogan: Join the Rebellion and discover all the exotic smells of the Universe.

"Captain Solo, sir."

As the Rebel soldier neared, Han recognized the man from their previous base, and he stepped down onto the white icy tarmac. "Hello, Major."

"It's good to see you made it here in one piece, sir."

"No thanks to the Empire. Tell me, what in Kessel's Hell is that disgusting smell?"

"Oh." Major Derlin offered a little grin, his white teeth flashing momentarily beneath his thick blonde mustache. "That's Command Personnel's solution to the problems we're having adjusting the speeders to the extreme cold outside."

"What's their plan?" Solo sarcastically ventured. "Baffle Imperial sensors with that wafting odor?"

Familiar with the spacers' brand of humor, Derlin chuckled. "It couldn't hurt. Actually, someone suggested using live mounts that were naturally accustomed to this type of climate."

"Last time I heard, this place was devoid of life."

"Far as we know, sir, it is. The tauntauns--that's what they're called--were shipped in from some backwater planet in the Rim. The temperature drop here at nightfall is still too severe, even for these animals, but at least we've got a way to run base surveillance during the day."

"Tauntauns, huh?"

"Yes sir." Derlin hesitated, then offered a reassuring smile. "You'll get used to the smell. Sooner or later."

Solo did not look convinced.

"It could be worse, sir. You could've been the lucky freighter to haul them here in the first place. From what I understand, Captain Schaelt's hold still reeks of them."

The Corellian sighed at being forced to accept yet another inconvenience in the name of freedom fighting. "I'll keep that in mind." He glanced around, then made a vague gesture to their surroundings. "Which way to the command center?"

Derlin turned slightly and pointed. "Follow that row of flight-deck lights to the corridor hatch at the end, take a right and then your second left. You can't miss it."

"Thanks." Solo waved a quick salute, then headed according to the directions.

"...so I told him to stick it in his afterburners."

"You didn't!" Leia Organa was trying so hard not to laugh that she nearly dropped her mug of steaming kaff. She paused to set her drink down on the table, then looked back up at her lunchtime companion and confidant. "What did he do?"

Lieutenant Kristin Aldritch, who when on duty occupied the commstation terminal beside Leia in the command center, was at the moment playing to her royal audience with a flair that should have won applause. She made a fluid shrug of her shoulders and picked up her own mug. "He left."

Leia's dark eyebrows rose in surprise. "Just like that?" Her expressiongrew into a frown as her own mind made uncomfortable comparisons with another freighter pilot under the Alliance's hire, albeit tentatively. The princess absently toyed with her mug, swirling its contents; she inexplicably felt more disturbed by Kristin's lack of distress than by the abruptness of the lover's departure. "You don't miss him?"

"A little, I guess," Kristin confessed in answer to Leia's question. "It wasn't all sweetness and light, though. He could get on a kick about some inane problem, and never quit about it. Take those blasted tauntauns; if I'd had to listen one more time to his griping about how he couldn't get the stink out of his hold, I would've screamed."

The princess nodded slowly, sympathizing with her friend's frustration from dealing with someone who could be extremely obnoxious when he tried. Even though Kristin had admitted from the start that she hadn't originally intended Captain Wendell Schaelt as a permanent mate, time had lead Leia to believe that Kristin's opinion had changed; she was thus surprised by her friend's nonchalance. Gods knew she felt anything but casual whenever sparing with Han Solo, and he was just a friend. "I don't know how you can be so calm about his leaving."

"Oh, he's a little miffed right now," Kristin responded, "but his contract's not up yet, so he'll be back soon enough." She shrugged again. "Who knows, maybe he'll mellow out by then, and we'll work it out. Sometimes it just takes a little time."

"You're giving him a second chance," Leia concluded.

"Try a third. Wendell's really not such a bad guy."

At that moment, their conversation was interrupted by a loud crackle that came from the public address system and painfully echoed within the relatively small confines of the Officers' Mess. An instant later, an amplified and staccato masculine voice blurted out: "Testing, one. t-,- ree. Testing, one-" The sequence began to break up into more static, then cut off entirely. There were a few laughs from other personnel in the cafeteria, and both women grinned at each other in amused exasperation. Yet the latest problem to confront them in their efforts to relocate the base.

"Something's playing havoc with the PA system," Kristin sighed. "It keeps cutting in and out on it's own." As a commtech, she was part of the crew responsible for maintaining reliable communications or else base operations would disintegrate from lack of coordination in orders. Naturally, she was also one of the first to hear about it when things didn't work smoothly. "Just when we seem to get all the bugs worked out of the system, we've got to move out and start over from scratch."

"I know." Leia reluctantly glanced at the chronometer set in the sleeve of her thermal suit, then reached for her white gloves and began to slide out of the booth. "Break's over. You'll have to keep me updated."

Kristin gave Leia a knowing leer as she got to her feet. "As if you don't have enough scandal on your hands."

Leia knew Kristin well enough to expect such a taunt, so she fielded it with the practiced finesse of a royal personage used to being hounded. "There is no scandal, but people are going to believe what they want to believe; I can't do anything about that."

Kristin capitulated with a chuckle. Early on in their friendship, she'd begun the crusade to drag out of Leia the sordid details of her intriguing relationship with the Corellian smuggler Han Solo. Kristin's junior by a good ten years, Leia was amazingly tough and hadn't budged a centim. Beyond the typical admittance that Solo was 'just a friend', followed by a recitation of all his leadership and piloting abilities, Leia was very careful to remain neutral in any personal reference to the smuggler. Of course, what the princess wasn't saying could fill a library of data diskettes.

As they began walking back towards the command center, Kristin ventured on with her prying. "So, when's Captain Solo due back?"

"Any day, I suppose. I really don't keep that close of an eye on his schedule." Leia ended that statement with a look that dared any further prodding.

"Right." Kristin suddenly remembered something and reached into one of the pockets of her insulated coat. "I almost forgot. Here, this is for you."

Still walking, Leia held out her hand and watched as a small, golden coin was placed in her outstretched glove. "What's this?" Upon closer inspection, Leia could see that it was an old and worn decorative token, probably of some historical value. An interesting but rather loose description of a bird in flight was imprinted on one side, and a short phrase filled the other side. After a moment, Leia read aloud: "Free of spirit, free to dream."

Mind abruptly elsewhere, Leia came to a slow halt and used her other hand to flip the coin over once more. She stared at the emblem, getting the distinct impression that it was as traveled as it was old.

"Nice, isn't it?"

Leia's attention returned to the present and she blinked at her companion. "What is it?"

"A membership token from back when there used to be a Spacer's Guild. Now it's more of an old lucky piece. You keep it with you all the time, and it's supposed to bring you good luck--so you never get the shakes, I guess. That's what he told me."

"Who?"

"Wendell."

"Oh."

"He's Corellian too, you know "

Leia absorbed that little bit of information. "No, I didn't know that...So why are you giving it to me?"

"Actually, it's from both of us." Kristin cocked an eyebrow in gentle amusement, then reached out to tap the coin nestled in the princess' palm. "You obviously need all the help you can get dealing with Solo."

Leia didn't know whether to laugh, feel offended, or take the meaning of their gift to heart. She was sure she didn't need busybodies arranging her affairs, however. "Thanks a lot," she said with a wry grin, "but I'm starting to wonder if a club wouldn't be more effective."

The Lieutenant leaned closer as if to impart some universal secret. "Men developed stubbornness into a science: We fashioned it into an art form."

Dark eyes wide in feigned wonder, Leia shook her head as she resumed walking. "You're simply full of wisdom, aren't you?"

"You laugh now," Kristin teased as she stayed in step beside the princess, "but I've seen the way you two--"

Both were forced to come to a sudden halt as Han Solo swung around the approaching corner as if he had the entire base to himself. Unable to stop fast enough, the collision between smuggler and princess was unavoidable. Thoroughly startled by his appearance from out of nowhere, Leia let out a little yelp as her boots slipped on the icy floor. She instinctively flung her arms out to regain her balance, and the lucky talisman fell from her glove. Although equally caught off guard, Solo recovered quickly enough to catch Leia by the wrist and upper arm before she could fall flat on her seat. Hauling her back up so that she could replant both feet on the hard floor, he let out a little laugh.

"Whoa, easy there, Your Worship. What's the hurry? I'm right here."

Leia's initial surprise was mixed with embarrassment and growing indignation; she truly hadn't expected him to arrive for another day or two. "You...What do you think you're doing?! Why are you back so soon? Who do you think you are, anyway, flying around corners like some--."

Han leaned in close, effectively cutting her off in mid-tantrum. "One at a time, sweetheart." He gave her a palpable once-over, appreciating the tight fit of her Alliance issue thermal suit (a new look which he whole-heartedly approved of), then met her eyes once again and offered his most charming smile. "Did you miss me?"

Her indignation fueled by the Corellian's smugness, Leia planted herfists on her hips and ignored his bait. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be hauling equipment to Sullust, not disrupting base operations by--"

Han gently shook his head in patronizing disagreement, then reached out to cup her chin in his hand. "You hired me because I'm fast, remember?"

She belatedly jerked away from his touch, and Han arched an eyebrow as if an idea had just occurred to him. "Or at least that's the excuse you gave to the High Command. Isn't it?"

Leia's glare became hot enough to burn through the thickest Hoth glacier, yet it seemed to have little effect on her true target. "You're suffering hallucinations, Captain. Perhaps you should report to the medcenter."

Han ever so slightly threw his shoulders back as he straightened up to his full height. "Oh, there's nothing wrong with me."

"Good. Then I'll see that General Rieekan reassigns you immediately." Suddenly inspired, her smile was full of promise but little warmth. "From what I understand, they're in need of volunteers to ride the tauntauns. That should keep you quite busy."

He coolly measured her sincerity, then leaned in close once again, his tone an intimate rumble. "Is that a threat, sweetheart? I'm a hired freighter pilot, not some farm hand. Maybe it's time I moved on, if you're beginning to confuse the two."

Leia stood her ground, weak knees be damned! She would not be intimidated by his close proximity, nor by his words; not this time. "Maybe you're right, Captain," she answered, her chin tilted up in defiance. 'I'm calling your bluff, you pirate.'

Solo's internal sirens went off in alarm. Leia normally responded with heated denials to his remarks about leaving the Rebel Alliance. Had she truly had a change of heart since Ord Mantell? He was surprised and a little unnerved by her composure.

Ice crunched off to the side as Lieutenant Aldritch shifted her stance. Reminded of the fact that they had a very attentive audience, Leia tightened her jaw with forced casualness. "Excuse me, but I've more important matters to attend to. I suggest you pay more attention to where you're going, before someone gets hurt."

'Too late,' Han thought with some sarcasm as she stepped around him within the narrow corridor. He nodded acknowledgment to Kristin, who returned his hello with a knowing look before she followed the princess towards the bend in the corridor. His curiosity piqued by her peculiar smile, Han twisted around, his dark eyebrows drawn together as he watched them leave. "Women," he muttered.

Han turned back, and a glitter of gold against the white floor caught his eye. He bent down and picked up the round coin. Realizing that the princess had probably dropped it in their collision, he belatedly glanced over his shoulder to call out to her, but she'd alreadydisappeared around the comer. Bemused, he looked back down to the coin in his hand, then froze in mid-motion when he recognized the worn emblem.

Out of pure habit, Han nimbly flipped the token between his fingers and over the knuckles, then ended the traditional ritual by rubbing the coin between thumb and forefinger. It had been years since he'd seen one of these. Not the superstitious type, he'd given away his own membership token once the Empire had gained enough control to dissolve the Spacer's Guild and formally unionize shipping. Han, along with many other merchant mariners, had chosen to work illegally underground rather than submit to the cash draining and demoralizing bureaucracy imposed by the Imperial Shipping Coalition. A rebellious move? Maybe.

Coincidence? Han remained motionless for a moment longer as the implications of Leia's owning such a superstitious piece of spacer folklore revealed what the princess so heatedly denied; that she was interested in his background, and in him. Hallucinations, indeed. 'It's nor over yet, Sweetheart,' he challenged her silently as he tucked the coin into his hip pocket. 'Not by a long shot.'

"What? I didn't catch that."

Not about to repeat the curse she'd just uttered, and even less inclined to stop her double-time march, Leia shook her head in frustration. "Never mind."

"Care to explain that little scene?"

Leia skidded to a halt and turned a glare on her compatriot. "Gods! I would think it's quite obvious! That was so...typical."

Kristin knew better than to admit that she'd enjoyed the little battle between smuggler and princess. It wasn't the first argument she'd witnessed between the volatile couple, but it was by far the most informative. The combatants were no longer cautious with what they said during their public spats, and their hidden agendas couldn't be clearer if spelled out on a compscreen. Kristin thus concluded that something quite dramatic (not to mention juicy!) had taken place during Princess Leia's personally orchestrated mission to Ord Mantell, and neither of them had yet to reconcile. "Not that it's any of my business--" she gingerly began.

Arriving at the closed hatch to the Command Center, Leia paused long enough to give her friend an exasperated as-if-that-would-stop-you look, then triggered the door. Although only partially staffed due to personnel shifts between the bases, the Command Center was nevertheless crowded. The computer and scanner equipment left little room for the operators, and thick cables snaked and cries-crossed all over the floor, makingmaneuvering through the chamber doubly difficult and potentially hazardous. As they approached their posts (two swivel seats along one bank of computer screens and control panels) both frowned upon seeing what the commtechs had been up to during their mid-meal break. The Lieutenant's computer screen had been removed, the internal electronics fully exposed and partially disentangled.

"Great," Kristin mumbled, gesturing at the disemboweled contents of her scanner as she flopped into her chair and reached for her comm- headset. "Look at this mess."

Leia settled into the chair to Kristin's left and picked up her own headset. She adjusted it over her intricate braids of dark hair, then glanced to her companion's station. "At least you won't get bored," she offered with a grin. "Try staring at these statistics and budget figures all day."

It was Kristin's turn to send a caustic glare. "That's some comfort. I'll remember that the next time you need any help with inventory." She poked through the wires and circuits for a moment, but her heart wasn't in the work. She glanced behind them. Seeing no one within earshot, she looked back to the princess who'd already begun tapping keys to direct the columns of figures scrolling across her screen. "Can I ask you something personal?"

Having suspected Kristin incapable of resisting commentary on what she'd just witnessed in the corridor, Leia debated whether or not to ignore the question. She stared blankly at the numbers on the screen before her, then damned her better judgment and nodded her permission.

Without further preamble, Kristin dove in. "What is it about you and Han anyway? Seriously. I can't figure out why you're so hostile towards him sometimes, when it's so obvious that you two want each other."

Leia likewise took a cautionary glance around them to discourage any possible eavesdroppers. Then she met the Lieutenant's steady but coaxing gaze. If there was one thing about their friendship that the princess appreciated most, it was this sort of opportunity to speak of personal matters with another woman and not worry about ulterior political, social or sexual motives.

Leia's inexperience with such matters of the heart was no longer a secret between them. Although she'd dealt with a continuous stream of suitors before and during her short tenure in the late Imperial Senate, she'd never considered any of those men seriously; there were many reasons to marry an influential woman of royal heritage, none of them having to do with true affection. Maybe she was an impractical romantic to expect more, but she'd always found the overwhelming majority of those men boring or boorish, and there was no reason to doubt her innate ability read people. She would recognize the right man when he crossed her path. Until that spectacular, fireworks-exploding moment, she would practice the proper etiquette of flirting and keep those men at a safe distance.

Kristin, on the other hand, had been happily married once. Her husband had died several years ago during an Imperial raid. Now in a semi-serious relationship with another man (a Corellian at that!), she possessed a wealth of knowledge that Leia found intriguing and on occasion even inspirational. She proved more than willing to offer advice whenever Leia asked, and even when she didn't. She also provided comfort without the usual strings attached, an invaluable friendship Leia had never truly enjoyed within the royal courts or senatorial halls. Even with Luke, whom she regarded as a close friend, there were taboo subjects Leia couldn't bring herself to discuss. Han Solo in particular. If anyone could understand her predicament, Kristin would - wouldn't she?

Leia sighed, then looked away in atypical coyness, aware that she was letting down her last shield of protection. "I don't know. I ... Why does he insist on provoking me all the time?"

"Maybe he feels that any reaction is better than a cold shoulder," Kristin bluntly observed.

Leia jerked her head back, hurt by the implication. "How am I supposed to act? He complains about his situation with us, and he constantly threatens to leave. I can't simply--" Leia broke off mid-confession, her mind adrift in a sea of uncharted emotions.

Kristin held up an open hand in appeasement, not intending to make Leia go on the defensive. "That's understandable." Kristin did sympathize with her younger friend. Leia was clearly in love and didn't know how to deal with the reality other than to deny her strong and often conflicting emotions. She seemed willing to live with the familiar hurt of self-denial rather than face the unknown pain of rejection. Unfontunately, that risk was part of the package; there were no refunds or returns in affairs of the heart. _And no excuses_, Kristin determined. "Are you attracted to him?"

Leia failed to mask the sudden heat that rose in her cheeks. Her dark eyes briefly focused on some distant spot as her mind called up one of the most recent and vivid memories of his sharp features. In flattering shadows, in a quiet moment during their mission on Ord Mantell, she'd found him so handsome that for a moment she'd forgotten to breathe. He'd caught her staring in that mesmerized state, and she'd been without a single coherent response. She'd always felt a strong physical attraction to him, but until that moment of discovery she'd never realized just how much.

"Gods, yes. He's gorgeous," Leia whispered with an unexpected huskiness. She blinked, suddenly back to the present and feeling an ingrained urge to deny what she'd just said. Solo was so unlike any of the men she was used to dealing with or expected to deal with. He was the first person to make Leia doubt her ability to read people. Time and again her instincts warned against believing the image he presented to others. And as for fireworks, they'd yet to explode, although from day one there'd been plenty of sparks flying. How could she be falling for such an unconventional and irreverent person when there was auniverse of perfectly nice men out there more than willing to bow to her every wish? "But that's hardly enough to build a meaningful relationship on," Leia reasoned with notably less conviction.

"No, it isn't," Kristin agreed. "That's what you want?"

"I don't know what I want, anymore. I--I don't have the time for anything less, Kristin."

"All right." The problem-solver in Kristin was kicking into overdrive now, and she had to restrain herself from rubbing her hands together in intellectual excitement. "Frankly, there's no question that he's attracted to you, never mind the teasing and complaints. He wouldn't have bothered to try for this long if he didn't think you were worth it."

"That's what I don't understand!" Not sure whom she was feeling more impatient with, Solo or herself, Leia displaced her irritation by roughly adjusting the position of her headset. She was certainly tired of the conflicting messages they continued to exchange. "If he's serious, why doesn't he act like it? I wish he would just once . . ." Leia momentarily fell silent, not knowing exactly what she wanted to say next. "He refuses to commit to any cause other than himself, and I'm afraid . . . This war has cost me so much already. I can't invest my love in someone who's going to walk out of my life at any moment. I couldn't." Leia closed her eyes as she realized just how eager and ready she was to do just that, if only he would give some indication that he felt the same.

_Love_. She'd said it herself. It was a frightening discovery to learn how the ultimate exposure of her inner desires relied solely upon such an unstable factor like Han Solo.

Leia turned to her readout panel, suddenly desperate to immerse herself in a protective layer of duty. She didn't want to learn just how deeply those feelings ran within her, how much influence the Corellian had already acquired over her passions. She felt mortally afraid of the pain she would have to deal with if he left. Worst of all, she knew that her argument was moot: Hers was no longer a question of "If?" or "Why?" but of "What now?"

Kristin reached out a comforting hand and squeezed Leia's shoulder, pulling her back into the conversation. "Leia, Han Solo can complain all he wants about the Rebellion, but he's still here, nearly two years and three bases later." She jostled the princess until she looked up. "Okay, so it's not burned in durasteel, but I'd call that a serious commitment."

Leia watched her companion, unable to accept that logic so easily. "Then why doesn't he just come out and say that?!"

"Maybe you haven't realized this yet, sister, but you aren't the only one who's at risk of getting hurt here." Kristin sighed, then made an offering gesture with one hand. "I mean, look at the kind of encouragement he's gotten so far. He's probably just as scared as you are."

Leia continued to look doubtful as Kristin's observations gradually sank in. The thought that Han Solo could be afraid of her own refusal had never even occurred to her. He'd always seemed so self-assured and certain of what he wanted,or at least he'd been more successful than she'd been at appearing that way. "Do you really think he feels the same way?" she wondered in a soft voice.

Kris1in shrugged. She didn't know Solo that well. "Who knows? I never claimed I understood men. Maybe--"

Kristin was suddenly interrupted by the unanticipated appearance of General Rieekan, who stepped up between them. He gently rested his hands on their corresponding shoulders, then leaned down to say quietly: "Remember that our personnel address system is malfunctioning. I would suggest removing your headsets if you two are going to continue this line of conversation."

"Hey, Luke!" An increasingly habitual frown marring his forehead, Solo stepped around a partially assembled Starfighter engine, then rapped his bare knuckles on the metallic fuselage of the gutted X- Wing. "You in there?"

There was an answering clank of metal against metal, followed by a very human curse. A moment later, Luke Skywalker emerged from the opened cockpit, vigorously shaking his hand in pain. He stuck a bruised knuckle in his mouth, but upon seeing who had summoned him, the young Commander's expression brightened and he yanked the finger out of his mouth with an audible pop. "You're back!"

"Observant as ever, kid. You got a minute?"

"Sure, Han." Luke grabbed a rag draped over the edge of the cockpit and wiped the grime off his hands. Noticing the unpleasant expression on his friend's face, Luke grinned. "Whoops. I take it you've already run into the princess."

"You could say that," Han supplied in disgust.

"She's not too pleased with you. I'd say you were lucky you were out of firing range for a while."

"So I've noticed. That's the thanks I get for helping her out. Listen," Solo switched topics, trying not to sound impatient but feeling the need for some positive action. "When you've got some spare time, Chewie and I could use an extra hand realigning the _Falcon_'s alluvial damnpers. She took a hit over Argus and they were knocked out of sync."

"Sure. I can help out now, if you want. Until the mech-techs are ready to refit that engine, I'm just wasting time right now anyway," Luke said as he made a loose gesture towards the drive mechanism of the fighter.

"The sooner the better. I'll never get Jabba off my back if I'm forever stuck in some blasted Rebel hideout working repairs."

Luke had begun to extricate himself from the tight confines of the X-Wing cockpit, but he paused upon hearing the Corellian's words. It had been a relatively long time since he'd heard Han talk about leaving the Rebellion.

_So that's why Leia's been in such a foul mood lately_, Luke realized. Han and Leia usually bragged, quipped or otherwise bitched about the numerous times they'd worked together. On this occasion, however, Leia had been uncharacteristically close-mouthed about her successful mission to Ord Mantell, and although Luke had never gotten the chance to grill Solo for details, Han wasn't volunteering any information either. By whatever tacit agreement, the reluctant duo was keeping Ord Mantell to themselves.

Far from jealous (Luke had long ago accepted the rather obvious fact that Han and Leia were a better match-stormy, yes, but also incredibly well balanced), Luke instead felt terribly curious and not a lime disappointed. He'd thought that the relationship had been progressing rather nicely (mind-numbingly slow at times!) but progressing just the same. And he'd been glad. As entertaining as the arguments could be, the couple's routine was getting old and Luke was no longer the only Rebel willing to play match-maker if it meant that some peace could be brought to their little comer of the civil war.

Han saw Luke's hesitation, correctly interpreted his look of concern, and tried to ignore the irrational surge of guilt he felt. "Save the lecture for your cadets," he said sharply as he stepped back, allowing Luke room to descend from the fighter.

Luke slid down the hanging ladder and dropped to the icy deck with practiced agility, then rubbed his hands together to warm his fingers. "You know I gave up 1ecturing you a long time ago. Like my uncle used to say, there's no use pounding your head against the wall when there are perfectly good doors."

"Thanks," Han responded dryly. "That's just the kind of third-hand wisdom I need right now."

"Any time. There's more where that came from," Luke replied with a grin as he stooped down to shut off the remote for the space heater he'd been using to warm up the cockpit during his work. "So, how did your shuttling to Sullust--"

Luke's sentence was interrupted by the sudden but now familiar sharp crackle of the personnel address system cutting in. At first there was a stream of unintelligible noise, then with atypical clarity came the words: "**--won't get bored. Try staring at these statistics and budget figures all day--**"

Luke straightened up, ready to joke about the unpredictability of the base intercom.

"That's Leia," Han said with an abrupt intensity that made Luke halt mid- thought and pay more attention to the broadcast conversation as well.

"**--That's some comfort. I'll remember that the nest time you need help with inventory--**"

"Leia and Lieutenant Aldritch," Han amended, his posture alert and his dark eyebrows drawn together in concentration.

"**--Can I ask you something personal? What is it about you and Han, anyway? Seriously. I can't figure out why you're so hostile towards him sometimes, when it's so obvious that you two want each other . . . there--I don't know. I--Why does he insist on provoking me all the time?--**"

"Yeah," Luke stated. "That's definitely them. Say, maybe we should go tell them--"

Han gave up his vigorous hushing gestures towards Skywalker and simply clamped his large hand over the Tatooin's mouth as he hissed: "Will you put a lid on it, kid!? I'm trying to listen."

"** . . . Maybe he feels that any reaction is better that a cold shoulder--How am I supposed to act? He complains about his situation with us, and he constantly threatens to leave. I can't simply--**"

The link began to break up and Han practically growled in frustion. His eyes scanned the carved out hanger ceiling for the PA speakers as he willed them to continue broadcasting.

Luke stepped out of Solo's reach and directed a chastising glare at him. He was disturbed by the look of gratification that had transformed the smuggler's face. "Han, that's as bad as eavesdropping."

Han tossed back a look of disbelief, amazed by Skywalker's unnecessary exercise in virtue. "It's over the frackin' intercom, kid! What do you want me to do, stick snow in my ears? Besides, she's talking about me; that makes it my business. Now shut up, would you?"

"**--attracted to him? Gods, yes. He's gorgeous . . . that's hardly . . . --eaningful relationship . . . No, it isn't. That's what you . . . I don't know what I want . . . --eve time for anything less, Kristi-- . . . no question that . . . --tracted to you, never mind . . . --ouldn't have bothered to . . . if he didn't think you were worth . . . what I don't understand!**"

With a final uncomfortably loud crackle of static, the intercom switched off as abruptly as it had cut in.

Luke glanced around, suddenly conscious of just how quiet the entire hanger had become. Deck crews, mech-techs, pilots, and soldiers alike all seemed to have halted mid-task, their heads tipped slightly upwards in positions of attentive listening. Then someone made a muffled comment, and a wave of laughter rippled from one end of the hanger to the other, following some no doubt inapproriate joke as it was passed along.

Feeling mortified for Leia's sake, Luke turned back to look at Han, half expecting the smuggler to be chortling in self-satisfaction, if not wholehearted triumph. Instead, Solo's expression had turned truly unreadable as he stared unseeing at the metallic innards of the Starfighter. Even the gratification had disappeared. Then he seemed to become aware of the amused looks he was drawing from the surounding base personnel.

Sounding oddly subdued, Han nodded his head towards the side alcove in which the Falcon was docked. "Come on, kid. I've got a lot of work to do."

Thermal head gear, goggles, and thick scarf tucked securely under his arm, Han Solo idly leaned against an icy stalagmite, his attention equally divided between watching the Rebel tauntaun handlers tack up his mount and a careful study of the fit of his thickly lined gloves.

The repairs he'd planned for his ship had progressed remarkably fast in the last few day's. Until yesterday morning. While standing beneath the _Falcon_ with Chewie beside him, he'd realized there was nothing left that he could afford to fix, or that the Rebel Alliance stores could supply anyway. Now what? Chewbacca had queried with his typical aplomb. Equally adapt at reading his co-pilot's unsaid thoughts, Han had felt that the pointed gaze Chewie gave him was overkill. They both had known there was no longer any official reason to stay on Hoth, and Chewie had been perceptive enough to anticipate a new excuse.

Han would never have accused Luke Skywalker of good timing, but he had to admit that for once the kid had entered right on cue. Luke had come bounding up to them at that moment (disproportionately excited, Han reflected, considering what they were about to do in the name of duty). "You didn't sign up yet?" Luke had asked with mild disappointment, obviously having fully expected Solo to join the growing roster of tauntaun jockeys. "We could really use the help, Han. You'd balance out the rotation of riders."

Han had been honestly torn between his growing desire to finally deal with Jabba the Hutt face to face, and his disinclination to leave the Rebellion now that he knew for a fact, no matter how he'd acquired the information, that Princess Leia wanted him as more than "just a friend". The timing was ironic, moronic and typical.

Han had found himself forced to make a quick decision: Hadn't he already put off paying Jabba for well over two standard years? Chewie could find something to do to pass the time. What difference would a few more days make?

Han's thoughts were brought back to the present by the appearance of Luke, fully decked out in his own Alliance issue cold weather gear. "Hi, Han. All set?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, kid." Han pushed away from the pillar offrozen water and began to gear up. "Let's get this over with." The Corellian pilot stepped up to his saddled mount, grasped the proffered reigns from the handler, then with a helpful boost from another handler, swung himself up into the saddle of the tauntaun.

Luke paused at hearing his friend's dispassionate tone, and watched Han as he tried to settle himself comfortably into the saddle.

Luke's original feelings of disappointment at the apparent cooling of Han's relationship with the princess had now grown to sheer vexation and disillusionment. His initial estimation of their emotional backslide had minimized whatever problem had developed on Ord Mantell. Now Luke realized just how much he'd underestimated the resultant fallout.

In the roughly two standard years they'd known one another, Han and Leia had consistently sparred. In all frankness, however, their true fights had been relatively minor and infrequent, often quickly resolved or otherwise ignored. After all, they were friends. Whatever had recently occurred to retard the relationship was now reflected in their escalated personal attacks. Han and Leia had more than simply relapsed to an earlier point in their relationship; they'd retreated to a level of detachment that perhaps none of them had ever anticipated.

It pained Luke to see the visible tension that now crackled between his friends. They'd become the only family he had, and suddenly his family was threatening to break up.

"Hey, Luke! Snap out of it or we'll never get those sensors placed before nightfall." Luke looked up from where his gaze had settled upon the snow covered tarmac, and found Han frowning down at him from his tauntaun.

Forced to shift in his saddle to keep Skywalker in view as the tauntaun sidled around, Han deftly wrapped the reins more securely around his thickly gloved hands, then looked back down. "You okay, kid?"

"Sure, Han." With a teasing salute towards his friend who steadfastly refused to accept the standing offer of the rank of Commander, Luke walked up to his own mount and patted her on the snout. "Come on, girl. Let's show that Corellian what real riding's all about."

Recognizing the tossed gauntlet, Han let out a self-confident chuckle as he tugged the reins of his mount to direct her towards the open hanger shield door, then prodded her sides with his heels. "Last one to the first marker's a Hutt's uncle!" With that challenge, Solo let out a whoop and was racing past the rows of X-Wings, heading for the exit.

"Cheat!" Luke accused with a laugh as he swiftly mounted his own tauntaun and spurred his ride to follow.

"Chewie!"

The preoccupied Wookiee looked up from his busy work, spotted his captain, and let out a frustrated bellow. Next time, you overhaul the ion conduits; it was your idea. For emphasis, Chewbacca waved the macro-fuser he'd been using, then whacked it against the _Falcon_'s hull. It's your damned ship.

Wincing at the latest scratch inflicted on his ship, Han held up both hands in placation, for the sake of the _Falcon_ as much as his own well-being. "All right, don't lose your temper. I'll come right back and give you a hand."

Famous last words, Chewbacca grumbled before reluctantly turning back to his work. He had a good idea where his captain was heading, and knew from experience that Han was usually anything but helpful following a confrontation with the princess. _Humans!_ Sometimes he questioned his own taste in friends.

_Wookees!_ Han shook his head as he dumped his cold weather gear onto the holochess table aboard the _Millennium Falcon_ then shed his heavy parka and tossed it atop the rest. Sometimes he still couldn't figure out his partner. On the one hand, Chewie would adamantly suggest that they continue to help out the Rebels, and then on the other, constantly prod Han with the fact that Jabba the Hutt was anything but a patient or forgiving being. A lot of help that was. He didn't need opinions; he needed a decision.

If there was one benefit from riding a tauntaun, it was the time it allowed Han to be alone with his thoughts. Although neither an easy nor comfortable choice, Han had finally reached the conclusion that the outstanding debt to Jabba took precedence over his tentative love life or any of the other reasons he'd managed for hanging around with the Rebellion since Yavin.

Events on Ord Mantell had proven that eventually one of the countless bounty hunters would track him down. If he maintained his ties to the Alliance he would effectively lead those bounty hunters to the very threshold of the Rebellion, and the Empire would pay generously for such a tip. More importantly, Leia had already literally come within the direct fire of someone intending to collect Jabba's offered bounty. That single fact, more than any other, had scared Han into accepting the responsibility of his previous actions.

Leaving to meet Jabba on the Hutt's terms meant sacrificing whatever ground he'd gained in winning over the princess, but by procrastinating for too long, Han had effectively forfeited any other option.

It was just as well that Chewbacca wasn't present at that moment; the Wookiee would undoubtedly say that such was the price of finally growing up. Han didn't need to hear that.

He just hoped that he would still have something--or someone--to come back to.

"Let's start with that." Leia leaned over the shoulder of Hoth base's resident accountant and pointed to one particular figure that appeared on the man's screen.

"Three thousand credits?" the soldier-cum-CPA doubtfully questioned, glancing up at her.

"It's not realistic, even for a base this size. Not since the Empire began the trade embargo on Methus Major." She sighed at the harsh reality of their limited monetary resources: public support for the Rebellion had increased steadily since their triumphant destruction of the Imperial _Death Star_, but so had their expenses. Warfare was not a cheap undertaking. "Change it to ten; we'll just have to cut somewhere else."

The man softly grunted, lost in thought. They both studied the readout in silence, searching for a possible candidate for cutbacks.

Abruptly, Leia had the distinct feeling that she was being watched. Dragging her eyes away from her work, she turned slightly and discovered Han Solo poised within the entrance to the command center, staring back at her. It was an electrifying contact, and for an agonizing eternity she didn't know how to react. Ever since her inadvertent and humiliating episode with the intercom system a few days ago, she'd carefully avoided him.

Actually, dodging him had been amazingly easy. She'd begun to think that he'd avoided her as well. Solo had the knack for finding her at the most awkward of moments and exploiting them. She was confounded by the fact that he'd yet to even offhandedly mention what had been broadcast for the entire base personnel to hear.

Was it possible that Han had somehow missed the event, and that none of the many rumormongers on base had felt duty-bound to inform him? That seemed highly improbable. More likely he was allowing the pay-back to hang over her head, only to drop it when she was least prepared. That would be more Han's style. _Scoundrel._

Deciding that a cool demeanor would be her most appropriate reaction, Leia broke their mesmerizing eye contact and turned away. Let him come to her if he had something to say.

A moment later, Leia overheard Solo's conversation with General Rieekan and she couldn't help but turn back. The two were standing at her empty post beside Lieutenant Aldritch. Leia suspected that Hanwas purposefully talking loud enough for the benefit of anyone prone to overhearing, and because Solo blocked her view, she could only imagine Kristin's expression.

"Commander Skywalker reported in yet?" Rieekan queried.

"No. He's checking out a meteorite that hit near him."

"With all the meteor activity in this system, it's going to be difficult to spot approaching ships."

There was an instant of uncomfortable silence that Leia could sense from across the room, before Han abruptly switched topics by stating: "General, I've got to leave. I can't stay anymore."

Leia felt her very soul splinter into painfull fragments as she witnessed Solo's announcement. Until that moment' she'd convinced herself that his renewed threats to leave had been just that--threats.

"Princess?"

But the illusion was over; his decision to move on was now very official and very real. Fear, anger, and desperation warred within Leia, each demanding immediate action, but she couldn't chose which impulse to obey.

"Princess?"

Leia reluctantly drew her gaze from the departing smuggler to find the accountant quizzically gazing up at her. "Perhaps our estimated costs for supply trarnsports could be recalculated?"

_They certainly could be, if Han leaves_. Without answering the accountant, Leia looked back in time to see the General shaking hands with Solo in a respectful farewell.

"You're a good fighter, Solo. I hate to lose you."

"Thank you, General."

With visible expectation and what Leia swore was trepidation, Han Solo turned on his booted heel and headed in her direction. She throttled the impulse to turn and run in the opposite direction. Her fingers dug a little deeper into the cushioned headrest of the accountant's chair, but she prided herself on the glacial facade she maintained as the smuggler drew near.

Conversely, Han's face was anything but devoid of emotion. What Leia saw was perhaps one of the most honestly open and hopeful expressions she'd ever observed on the smuggler's mobile face, and she suddenly wanted nothing more than to melt right there in the middle of the Command Center.

"Well, Your Highness, I guess this is it."

The look of invitation caused Leia's heart to nearly pound right outof her chest, but she'd been trained by the best. No appeasement, no surrender, no matter the color of his eyes. "That's right," she said in a soft and far too agreeable voice, leaving no room for debate.

That response was clearly the last one Solo had expected. He failed to camouflage the injury she'd inflicted by accepting his departure so easily, but he swiftly assumed his familiar, well-worn sarcastic tone. "Well, don't get all mushy on me. So long, Princess," he sneered, then swung around and marched toward the exit.

Leia turned to follow, her own emotions in a surging turmoil. _What am I doing?!_ A very real and growing part of her desperately wanted him to stay, and yet she was shoving him away with every biting word. Feeling frantic, Leia glanced around before her eyes settled on Lieutenant Aldritch. Kristin had turned in her seat to watch the imminent confrontation. Leia felt an urge to seek her friends' advice, hoping that maybe she would have an instant solution to keep Han from leaving.

Kristin easily read the princess' confusion and made a simple gesture, ushering her towards the exit. Leia hesitated, not having the slightest idea what she would say to Han if she did catch up with him. Kristin repeated the gesture with added insistence. "Go," she mouthed impatiently.

Already short of breath, Leia suddenly rushed towards the exit and nearly fell when she tripped over one of the cables laying across the floor. She reached out to grab hold of the closest computer bank, regained her balance, then proceeded out the door with as much decorum as she could muster.

"Han!"

Solo had almost disappeared around the comer of the hallway, but he stopped upon hearing her shout. "Yes, Your Highnessness?"

As she purposefully closed the distance between them, Leia could see that Han was in no mood to talk. His reluctance was something new to her. In the past he'd always encouraged their confrontations. She planted herself in front of him, determined not only to get an explanation for his latest change of heart, but to make her regal bearing match his advantage in height. "I thought you had decided to stay."

"Well, the bounty hunter we ran into on Ord Mantell changed my mind."

_Ord Mantell_. How she'd come to hate that name! Han had virtually offered his commitment to the Rebellion, she had admitted her own attachment to him, and then all their interpersonal progress had been obliterated and their mission compromised by a man intent on collecting the reward for Captain Solo. She knew now that Han was in serious danger and was right in his decision to go. How could she argue with such common sense?

"Han, we need you!" she blurted out, hardly even aware of what she'd said. Her exclaimation echoed as loudly in her head as it did down the icy hallway. She watched Han's calculated reaction and realized the magnitude of her slip.

"'**_We_** need'?"

Leia nearly sighed; this was an old argument. "Yes."

"Oh, what about _**you**_ need?" and Solo poked a finger at her to emphasize his point. He was playing their game of words; it was a familiar sport of provocation, and she wasn't about to tell him what he wanted to hear. Not if he refused to admit the same first.

"I need? I don't know what you're talking about."

Han audibly sucked his teeth and snapped his fingers in a rude dismissal. "You probably don't." Declaring the game a draw, he abruptly walked away. His long legs gave him an easy advantage and forced Leia into a trot in order to keep up, but keep up she did. She wasn't about to let Han Solo get the last word this time.

"And _**what**_, precisely, am I supposed to know?" No longer bothering to keep her voice down and oblivious to the base personnel attempting to carry out their various duties in the middle of a battlefield, Leia struggled to match the Corellian's pace. She nearly collided with one soldier, but he dodged to the side in time.

"Come on!" Theatrically explaining the obvious to the deaf walls of carved ice, Solo waved both hands in exasperation as he strode ahead of her. "You want me to stay because of the way you feel about me."

"Yes!" She felt like a holo-disk stuck in repeat mode. How many times did she have to recite this?! "You're a great help to us. You're a natural leader."

Han suddenly stopped and turned back, causing Leia to skid to a less than gracefull halt in order to avoid crashing into him. He stabbed a finger at her. "No! That's not it. Come on. Aahhh--"

The two combatants separated long enough to allow an innocent supplies-toting soldier to pass between them, then Han intentionally leaned into her personal space with renewed intensity. He retracted the accusatory finger he'd been pointing, then tapped a thumb on his chest, leaving no doubt as to who had the upper hand this time. "Come on."

Leia experienced a moments' uncertainty, seeing no way to defeat his reasoning; he was perfectly right. Had he heard her broadcast confession after all? "You're imagining things," she volleyed in a tone that didn't sound convincing, even to herself.

Han Solo pounced. "Am I? Then why are you following me? Afraid I was going to leave without giving you a good-bye kiss?"

Leia felt her temper flare from the insinuation. She wasn't the one who'd been pressing for a kiss, even before their spontaneous embrace on Ord Mantell. She wasn't the one who'd jealously complained about how Luke was showered with friendly kisses for the simplest efforts, while his own attempts to impress were rewarded with little more than a cautious thank-you and a multi-credit chip. The subject of kissing was clearly Han Solo's button of irritation. In the heat of battle, Leia didn't hesitate to push it. "I'd just as soon kiss a Wookiee," she declared, perversely proud of the flash of anger she saw in his eyes.

"I can arrange that'" Han Solo retorted, then abruptly ended their argument and stormed away, fed up with her denials and excuses. "You could _**use**_ a good kiss!" he shouted, his baritone voice hoarse with frustration.

Abandoned without the chance of a parting shot, Leia fumed, then glanced around in time to meet the quickly masked smile of another Rebel soldier before he disappeared through the entrance to Supplies. _Wonderfull!_

Fit enough to growl, Leia headed back towards the Command Center. 'Let the money grubbing smuggler fly off, if that's what he wants so badly!' She had enough troubles in her struggle against the Empire; she didn't need this sort of pointless and unrewarding aggravation.

Leia sensed an instant change in atmosphere upon her return to the Command Center. A few brave members of the Head Quarters personnel sneaked furtive glances, but she studiously ignored them. Leia didn't doubt that every person in the Rebellion held an opinion regarding her and Captain Solo. She was sorely tempted to pick up that blasted headset once again and demand that someone volunteer to handle her affairs directly; she was giving up!

Leia neared her empty post and noticed Kristin's inquisitive gaze, but refused to acknowledge the silent question. She took her seat just as General Rieekan stepped up. "I'm afraid I have some bad news, Your Highess."

_No kidding_, Leia mused, then glanced up. Seeing her expression, Rieekan briefly thanked the Force that Leia Organa was fighting on his side of the war. "It's just as I feared. There's been a recent increase in the amount of Imperial Naval activity in this quadrant of the sector. It's very possible they were able to track our relocation efforts to some extent. I'm going to have to restrict any air traffic going in or out for the time being, at least until our energy shields are up and operating properly."

Leia remained unmoved for a moment as the varied implications of the general's decision ran through her mind. She didn't even want to think about the possibility of their having to move yet again, after only arriving such a short time ago. She was so tired of the running.

Worse yet, she knew what Rieekan was going to say next. She could feel it.

"Of course this restriction must extend to Captain Solo as well. We simply cannot risk drawing any further attention to Hoth. If the Empire manages to detect his ship within this system, they'll be curious as to what business a lone freighter has so far from the main traffic routes. You can see the logic in this, can't you, Your Highness?"

Admittedly surprised by General Rieekan's qualifying question, Leia nodded in total agreement. What she didn't comprehend was why he was asking for her approval? Under-staffing matters aside, she held no military rank within the Alliance command other than public relations rep and economics advisor. Officially, whether Solo remained or deserted the Rebellion was none of her business.

"Normally," Rieekan continued in a lower tone, now visibly uncomfortable as well, "considering your . . . acquaintance with Captain Solo, I would ask you to deliver the bad news, but . . . after taking recent developments into account, perhaps it would be wiser if I spoke with him myself."

Leia barely contained an petulant sigh; even High Command was monitoring her personal affairs. She was tired of everyone's assumption that she shared an intimacy with Solo which, as far as she was concerned, couldn't and didn't exist. "Thank you, General, but I'm perfectly capable of handling the task myself."

"Very well, Princess." As an afterthought, he added: "You might also ask Captain Solo if he's seen Commander Skywalker yet. We're having trouble with the commlinks again, and he's been out of contact for some time."

Rieekan was about to step away, but then paused to gently grip her shoulder in a gesture of encouragement. His smile proved infectious despite the princess' mood; she suspected that such was his intention and she felt a little better for his understanding.

_You've done some truly idiotic things in your life_, Han berated himself, _but this is by far your best effort_.

As the Corellian stormed down the carved-out corridor in the direction of the hanger bay, he paid little attention to the base personnel diving to the sides to avoid a collision.

Like an idiot that didn't know better than to quit, he'd practically thrown himself at Leia's feet. _What did you expect? A full confession (another full confession!) right there in the middle of the Command Center? _Leia Organa had made it quite clear that her affections were conditional, and he couldn't meet her terms. Any sensible man would've cut his losses and left, realising that she was as much of a lost cause as her precious freedom fighting . . . So why couldn't he just give her up as lost?

His pace slowing, Han watched his breath puff out in a frosty cloud of white. Less than four days and already he'd grown to wholeheartedly loath Hoth. The climate seemed to match Leia's disposition; she was about as malleable and passionate as an icicle. He knew that she was struggling to maintain her chilly facade; he hadn't allowed either of them to forget how much she'd warmed up to him until their latest mission, and he wasn't deaf. Princess Leia still wanted him, but he couldn't think of a single damned thing he could do to help them.

Chewbacca, secure in his dubious Wookiee wisdom, would probably spout something along the lines of Such is life; live with it. _Right_.

Han reached the hanger bay just as the personal communicator clipped to his holster belt gave a high-pitched chirp. He unhooked the small device, raised it to his mouth and triggered the link. "Solo here."

"You need to come back to the Command Center." The feminine voice, alto and all-too-familiar, sounded contrite. Almost.

Han scowled down at the commlink as he ground to a halt. "What I _**need**_, Your Worship," he growled, "is to get as far away from this Gods-be-damned chunk of ice--"

"Solo, would you just shut up and listen for--"

The satisfaction Han experienced as he switched Leia off mid-tirade was disappointingly short-lived. Now feeling more angry with himself than with the original source of his annoyance, Han resumed his march through the length of the ice cavern. _You are one prize-winning fool_.

The ambient light and air temperature within the hanger bay had noticeably dropped with the advance of night outside. Han wove his way through the parked X-Wings to avoid getting trampled by one of the returning tauntaun patrols, then spied his co-pilot standing beneath the _Falcon_'s hull. Chewbacca was surrounded by a jumbled assortment of tools and scavenged parts; he'd evidently found something to occupy his time. As Han drew near, however, he saw the Wookiee's solution to boredom and his precariously balanced temper tilted.

"Chewie, what're you doing!?" Frantic, Han ducked under the hull of the _Falcon_ and ran a hand through his hair as he eyed the present state of his ship's disassembled central lifters; it would be a full day's work, just to put everything back together.

Chewbacca looked up, somewhat mystified. You told me to find something to do.

Distantly amazed that he hadn't yet developed a persecution complex, thanks to the combined efforts of his best friend and the princess, Han laboriously elaborated: "I meant refasten the cable housing . . . flush the hyperdrive coolant . . . polish the decks!" Han furiously waved at the _Falcon_'s dismantled lifters. "Why do you take this apart now? I'm _**trying **_to get us out of here, and you pull both of these."

Don't yell at me, Chewbacca finally defended himself in a rumble. It isn't my fault you can't make up your mind--

"Excuse me, sir." Seeming to appear out of nowhere, See-Threepio butted in with his usual atrocious timing.

Ignoring the interruption, Han pointed a commanding finger at the scattered parts. "Put them back together. Right now!"

"Might I have a word with you, please?" Threepio insisted.

Still raging, Han swung around and directed a cross expression at the golden protocol droid. "What do you want?"

Threepio recognized that disturbed face. His defensive circuits spasmodically triggered. "Well, it's Princess Leia, sir. She's been trying to get you on the communicator."

Han glowered even more. Now the Ice Princess was sicking Threepio on him--a dirty tactic, even for her. "I turned it off. I don't want to talk to her."

"Oh." Not certain as to how to interpret the Corellian's answer, Threepio continued: "Well, Princess Leia is wondering about Master Luke. He hasn't come back yet. She doesn't know where he is."

Baffled that a protocol droid this incompetent could ever make it off the assembly line, Han shook his head. "I don't know where he is."

"Nobody knows where he is."

All of Han's anger was instantly wiped out in a tsunami of concern. "What do you mean '_**nobody**_ knows'?"

"Well, uh, you see--"

Not waiting for Threepio's typically long-winded explanation, Han stepped past him, heading for the flight line. "Deck Officer! Deck Officer!"

"Excuse me, sir." Threepio turned to follow the smuggler, even as the on-duty Deck Officer trotted towards them. "Might I inqu--"

Han clamped a hand over the droid's voice-coder, effectively muffling his chatter as Deck Offcer Tibbert snapped to attention before him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Do you know where Commander Skywalker is?" Han queried.

"I haven't seen him." Relaxing somewhat, the Rebel soldier shrugged. "It's possible he came in through the south entrance."

"'It's possible?'" Peeved by what he considered a lax attitude, Han pointed a stern finger at the officer's chest. "**_Why_** don't you go find out? It's getting dark out there."

"Yes, sir." Chastised, Tibbert nodded before racing off to carry out the civilian smuggler's orders.

Threepio, finally released from Solo's muzzling hand, trailed after him as the Corellian headed for the _Falcon_'s boarding ramp. "Excuse me, sir. Might I inquire what's going on?"

Mind already elsewhere, Han simply answered. "Why not?"

"Commcontrol, this is Deck Officer Tibbert."

"This is Commcontrol," Lieutenant Aldritch answered, while simultaneously reaching to carefully adjust the external volume at her console. "Go ahead."

"Set screen alpha. We've got two tauntaun riders going out."

Conditioned to follow such orders without question, Kristin was mid-task before the implications of the request sank in, and she paused to glance up to her left at the time displayed in glowing numbers on the chronometer. The base's protective shield doors were scheduled to be closed within a few minutes. "Please repeat that, sir. I didn't copy."

"Set screen alpha. We've got two tauntaun riders heading out. Echo Seven and Echo Two."

Kristin redirected her gaze to the young princess seated at the post to her left. Just as she'd expected, Leia's attention was instantly focused on the announcement; Echo Seven was Han Solo's designation. It only took Leia a moment to spring out of her seat, headset in hand, and move closer to peer intently over Kristin's shoulder at the commtracking screen.

"This is Princess Leia," she spoke as she took over the communication from Lieutenant Aldritch. Leia nudged her friend and indicated that she should follow out the request to reset the quadrant tracking device. "Their going out at this time is a direct breach of regulations, Major. No one is allowed outside past oh-nineteen-hundred."

"I'm aware of that, Your Highness. I was unable to stop Captain Solo, short of armed force. Since he isn't officially enlisted--"

"Yes, yes," Leia ground out between clenched teeth, tired ofhearing that unavoidable fact. "You're hardly responsible for his actions. Give your communicator to Captain Solo. I'd like a word with him."

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, but he's already left. Commander Skywalker hasn't reported in yet, and the Captain refused--"

"Luke is still out there?!"

The headset Leia had been holding up to her mouth slipped from suddenly numbed fingers and clattered onto the console. Kristin deftly caught the headset and handed them back, but she was alarmed to see how blanched the princess' features had become. "Leia?"

Vaguely aware that she'd recovered the headset, Leia felt as if she were running on auto-pilot. Ignoring Kristin's soft query, she spoke into the headset mike. "Has Echo Two left yet?"

"No, Your Highness. He's following your orders."

Leia nodded to no one in particular. _Why couldn't life with Solo be that easy?_ "Carry on, Sergeant. I'll notify the general. Commcontrol out." She set the headset down and stared momentarily at the blue screen before them, watching the isolated white dot that signified Echo Seven's slow progress across Hoth's frozen and wind-swept surface. Due to the combination of faulty equipment and horrendous weather, Han's transponder signal had already begun to flicker out.

"The signal's growing weak," Kristin quietly pointed out, her words snapping the princess out of her catatonia.

"I'm going to the hanger bay," Leia announced. She'd yet to pull her eyes away from the screen. but at least she'd made a positive decision. "I'll be back. Call me the instant he signals in."

The base shield doors were still open, half an hour behind schedule. The temperature drop within the hanger deck was becoming uncomfortably noticeable, but no one complained. The news of Commander Skywalker and Captain Solo's absence had quickly spread throughout the base, and although few truly believed either man would survive the night, Princess Leia was not the only one keeping a vigil within the cold ice cavern.

Leia however, was the only person that had no official business within the hanger, and she was uncomfortably aware of that fact. After attempting to look busy, she admitted to herself that she wasn't fooling anyone and gave up the effort. So far, only long dormant habits from her senatorial days had reappeared with the coming of the night; she caught herself pacing back and forth between two partially dissembled X-Wings, her gloved hands clasped tightly to prevent them from picking nervously at the seamsof her cold-suit.

Without conscious volition, Leia paused to gaze upon the _Millennium Falcon_ ensconced within a side alcove. More often than not, the old freighter had been bathed in the harsh light of flood lamps as her crew labored to repair the latest damage inflicted by the Empire. Now she sat in more flattering shadows, any evidence of her use and abuse hidden. She seemed so sleek and powerful and full of potential. Mesmerized by the sight, Leia realized just how much the battered freighter embodied her captain; she'd never stopped to look closer and appreciate what wasn't so obvious at the first glance.

Leia couldn't help but marvel at the change in her own opinion towards the ship. There'd been times when she'd outright distrusted the space worthiness of the aged craft. Granted, she still had her doubts, but after two years of dodging Imperial pursuit, along with the normal hazards of space, Leia had to confess a real admiration for the ship's durability and grace. Of course, many of those qualities were the direct result of the considerable talents of her captain. Even so, she now understood Solo's affection for the _Falcon_. He obviously knew class when he saw it.

No sooner had the thought occurred, then an unexpected blush tinted Leia's cheeks. Before she could counter the response, the heated flush escalated to tears. She steeled herself and drew a deep breath, refusing to get emotional. Tears were undignified, unregal and pointless. Crying wouldn't change the fact that Han and Luke were lost in the raging blizzard outside, nor would it erase the bitter untruths she'd said to Han because of a selfish fear of being hurt. Crying wouldn't fix all their stupid and wasteful arguments, and it wouldn't rescue them now. She drew another deep gulp of air.

Leia?

The princess nearly jumped out of her thermal boots at hearing the gentle rumble at her side. She hadn't detected Chewbacca's approach and, aware that she'd failed to mask the emotions coursing through her, her blush intensify into embarrassment. Although not yet fluent in his language, Leia nevertheless translated the look in the Wookiee's blue eyes; she instinctively knew that words were unnecessary, for he understood.

The special affinity she felt with Chewbacca stretched as far back as their short stay on Yavin's moon. During the following two years, he'd frequently sided with her during her arguments with Solo, though she suspected the Wookiee's motives to be more mischievous than noble. Chewie often served as an anchor of reality when their own obsessions threatened to overpower common sense, and Leia appreciated that fact.

Will you be all right? Chewbacca asked, careful in his enunciation for the princess' benefit.

Not ready to trust her voice yet, Leia gave a hesitant nod. Despite the surge of friendly warmth from Chewie, Leia needed to wrap her armsaround herself in an effort to fight off the growing chill. She was hard pressed to imagine a worse situation, and yet here was Chewbacca, worried about her. She felt a pang of guilt at her own selfish indulgence. _Pull yourself together, Organa. You can't do anything for them now except hope, and be strong for Chewie_. She cleared her throat, then offered a weak smile.

Chewbacca tipped his head slightly as he watched the princess. He knew her physical size belied her strength of spirit; she was much like his Corellian friend in that respect. While some considered the couple's eventual realationship unlikely, Wookiees believed in the natural give and take of life. Good and bad, strength and weakness, all existing in equal proportions to create an ever changing but forever constant balance. Chewie recognized such a balance between his captain and the young princess. Perhaps they had finally accepted that fact as well. Han had once confessed to him, albeit begrudgingly, how smitten he was by the princess. Her very presence in the hanger now surely demonstrated her mutual feelings.

For an immeasurable amount of time, they shared a silent communion of fear and hope. Then Leia closed her eyes and bounced on the balls of her feet as a strong gust of cold air seemed to sweep through the hanger. Chewbacca shifted away to lean against a ceiling support strut. He observed Artoo and Threepio as they returned from the base entrance, evidently giving up on their own valiant attempts to detect Han and Luke. He turned back and saw that the princess had resumed her nervous pacing. She then came to a stop, and Chewie followed her gaze in time to see the Deck Officer as he trotted in their direction. They both dared to hope for good news, but tentative hopes crumbled when the soldier stopped short and reported to Major Derlin, who'd been overseeing their limited rescue operations from nearby.

"Sir, all the patrols are in. Still no--"

Major Derlin suddenly put up a silencing hand, and both their gazes automatically swung to focus on Princess Leia who stood within earshot. The deck officer nodded once, then finished in a more subdued voice. "Still no contact from Skywalker or Solo."

Leia turned away, having felt as much as seen their looks of concen. She couldn't help the anger she experienced at their obvious attempt to cushion the truth, and thereby spare her emotions. She neither needed nor wanted their pity.

Threepio arrived at Princess Leia's side. "Mistress Leia, Artoo says he's been quite unable to pick up any signals; although, he does admit that his own range is far too weak to abandon all hope."

She was about to respond by thanking them for their attempts to help but was distracted as Major Derlin and the Deck Officer closed in on her. Leia fought an irrational impulse to run to her quarters and hide rather than bear the focused sympathy being directed towards her at this moment.

"Your Highness, there's nothing more we can do tonight. The shield doors must be closed."

While part of her was gratefull for the Major's consultation, the rest of her wanted to cry out in soul-wrenching denial. Why did they insist drawing her into making the final moves in this lethal chess game, until she no longer had any stakes left to win or lose?

Major Derlin remained silent, awaiting her response, though they both knew the answer: There was no choice. At Leia's slight nod, he turned to the Deck Officer. "Close the doors."

"Yes, sir."

Leia felt as frozen as the surrounding stalagmites and stalactites. Her eyes were drawn to the impenetrable blizzard of white outside that had begun with the setting of Hoth's weak sun. She loathed the feeling of utter helplessness that flooded her. Han and Luke had come to mean more to her than she could ever have imagined. Now they were lost out in the frigid night, and there was nothing she could do to help.

Too soon, the two huge shield doors began to slide shut, the gears audibly objecting to the cold with a reverberating grumble that Leia could sense through the soles of her boots. Off to the side, Chewbacca added his own mournfull howl of protest as the doors met with a soul-rendering metallic clash of finality; the sound caused Leia to convulsively closed her eyes.

"Artoo says the chances of survival are seven hundred seventy-five . . . to one."

Leia opened her eyes an eternity later and found the glowing photoreceptors of See-threepio observing her closely. She had no response.

"Actually," Threepio went on after a moment, his pausitronic brain belatedly calculating the possibility that his timing was wrong, "Artoo has been known to make mistakes...from time to time." Prodded on by the protesting warble for Artoo-Detoo, Threepio began to shuffle away in an effort to herd his noisome counterpart away from the princess. She obviously was in no mood to converse. "Oh, dear, oh, dear. Don't worry about Master Luke. I'm sure he'll be all right. He's quite clever, you know . . . for a human being."

Although it was her own downtime, Kristin made her way to the officer's mess and retrieved two mugs of kaff. With the intention of keeping Leia company (whether the stubbom Alderaani wanted it or not), she took a quick detour to her private quarters before heading for the Command Center. Kristin entered the cramped headquarters and found Leia entrenched at the commtech station. Having obviously send away Lieutenant Simel, their nighttime replacement, Leia must have insisted that she would work a third shift tonight (all of them were already working doubles due to understaffing). Kristin shook her head at yet another demonstration of her friend's obstinacy.

There was no mystery as to Leia's persistence; Han Solo and Luke Skywalker were still lost. The pain already showed in her haunted features. The artificial illumination from the glow panels above, and the steady blue glow of the commscreen, added to the unhealthy cast of shadows on her face. She appeared to have aged years within the past few hours. Leia was bowed forward, an elbow propped upon the countertop and her temple rested upon a fist. Kristin seated herself at Leia's usual post and waited for a reaction. The princess opened her eyes, but remained silent as she watched Kristin place one of the steaming mugs before her.

"Here, thought you could use this."

Leia drew a long breath, then lifted her head and straightened up in her seat. "Thank you. That smells wonderful." She picked up the mug and took a cautious sip. A moment later she sharply looked back to her friend. "What did you put in this?"

"A little Argusian whiskey I'd hoarded. Thought you could use a little of that, too."

Any other time and Leia might have been upset over the breach of regulations. Now she simply accepted the gesture with an appreciative nod before taking anther sip.

Kristin glanced at the empty screen in front of Leia "Any word yet?"

"No." Leia was making a commendable effort to remain impassive, but Kristin didn't have to look too hard to see the fear and exhaustion.

"You're tired, Leia. I'll get Simel back in here so you can get some rest."

Although she clutched her mug a little tighter, Leia shook her head in refusal. "No, I'm fine." She met her friend's eyes for a long soul-revealing moment, then shrugged to break the contact. "Besides, I don't think I could sleep right now if I tried."

Experiencing a flash of insight, Kristin tipped her head in empathy; she knew of the nightmares that still haunted her young friend. "This isn't your fault, Leia."

"That's easy for you to say," Leia snapped then fell silent as she sank back in her seat and stared into the spiked liquid within her mug. _So much for tact_.

It had been some time since she'd felt this sort of incompetence and guilt. Alderaan had perished before her eyes, and until tonight she'd believed that no other personal loss could ever compare. It was difficult to accept the reality that Han and Luke could mean this much to her. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

"Don't worry about it. Everyone here knows that Han and Luke are very close friends."

Leia silently agreed. Hadn't she always known how courageous, how protective and utterly selfless Han could be when it came to the people he cared about? Could she truly have expected anything less from him? By deed if not by word, Han repeatedly demonstrated his concen for Luke and herself. The odds had never deterred him, even when perhaps they should have. It seemed likely that this time his decision to rescue Luke would be fatal. In one cruel swift stroke of fate, Leia now stood to lose them both. "It isn't fair," she tersely whispered as she tried to ignore the heat of tears that once again began to swell within her.

Kristin looked up from her own mug and watched the thoughts that were battling for position on the princess' face. "To them or to you?"

Initially hurt by her friend's uncomfortable question, Leia bristled in habitual defense. The feeling quickly dissipated to be replaced by the ever-present fear that threatened to overwhelm her. "I don't know anymore," she said. "To die like this would be so . . . pointless. And for me . . . I've lost everything else in my life that's ever meant anything to me. Those two came along at a time when . . . when there was nothing left for me to believe in. They were both there when I needed them. When I needed a reason to keep living and fighting." She closed her eyes and fell silent for a long, thoughtful moment. "I don't think I could take being alone again."

"Let me tell you something, Leia." Kristin suddenly reached over to grasp the princess' hand in her own; Leia's eyes opened with a start before she met Kristin's gaze. "Do you know what was the last thing I said to my husband the day he was killed?"

Leia's breath escape in a sharp sigh as she was inexplicably, empathically swept up in an unanticipated wave of anguish that radiated from Kristin. The passage of nearly four standard years may have allowed her friend to accept the death of her lifemate to the point that she could reminisce about the good times, but Kristin clearly still experienced immense grief. For the first time since they'd known one another, Leia realized just how deeply that pain ran. She felt overwhelmed.

"Do you know what I told him?" Kristin repeated in a softer tone. Not expecting an answer from the raptly fascinated princess, she allowed the slightest trace of a wistful smile to return to her features. "I told him that I loved him ... Sometimes I think that's the only reason I've been able to carry on with my life. I know he had no doubts about how I felt." Kristin paused, seeming to measure herwords. "Tomorrow, when the patrols bring Solo and Skywalker back safely, tell them what you just told me."

Leia took a moment to assimilate her friends proposal. "Tell them?"

"Why not?"

Leia opened her mouth, then closed it as her dark eyebrows drew together in frustration.

Kristin shrugged. "It's not like it's much of a secret anymore."

Leia groaned. "Don't remind me."

"So confirm his suspicions. Frankly, I think telling him the truth would solve half of your problems with one shot. He might even surprise you."

_He never ceases to surprise me_, Leia thought with some irony. She peered into her warm drink as if her future could be seen within the swirling steam. Maybe telling Han exactly how she felt would relieve some of the tensions between them, but surely a new set of problems would emerge to trouble them. When had anything ever been easy for them? And there was still the question of whether or not he even felt the same for her. That was a painful possibility she couldn't ignore.

"One more timepart, Princess, and then I'm calling Simel back in here. Got that?"

A little surprised by the order, Leia lost her train of thought. "Are you pulling rank on me?"

The Lieutenant's grin turned to pure mischief. "I can try."

Leia managed to keep a straight face for a few moments then couldn't help the little smile that broke out. "You certainly can ... but it won't be necessary."

"Good." Kristin settled more comfortably into her chair and took a long sip from her mug. "You're learning fast."

The initial coming of dawn brought no relief to Leia's fears; if anything, the tension had increased ten-fold. As soon as the base shield doors had been rolled back, a flight of hastily adapted snow speeders had been sent out to conduct the delayed search. It was nearly an entire hour before Zev, leader of Rogue Flight, radioed in to announce that he'd located the missing men; he'd neglected to report on their health. Once again Leia stood within the chilly base hanger, trying to keep herself warm and her thoughts on anything but the two glaring absences within the base and her life. The waiting was what Leia loathed most, for there was nothing she could do to speed up the passage of time.

In the early morning, at Kristin's insistence, Leia had reluctantly retreated to her friend's quarters (with uncanny timing, the heating unit in Leia's personal room had evidently malfunctioned and melted the ceiling, thus flooding her tiny cubicle). Exhaustion had eventually won out and she'd fallen asleep, but her subconscious mind had continued to explore her most intimate fears and desires regarding Han's possible response to her admission. Would he laugh in her face, or simply tease? Worse yet, would he find her emotions quaint, an adolescent crush to be patronized? As much as she'd always appreciated his unfailing sense of humor, would he be unable to take her seriously now?

Or, would Han Solo take her hand, embrace her with a passion she could never doubt, then admit that he'd loved her from the start? Leia felt certain that if he indeed fulfilled any of her numerous and assorted fantasies, collected since the first day they'd met, she would expire from sheer bliss.

Her dreams had been such a vivid collage of those secret joys and fears that the images continued to linger in the back of her mind, even while attempting to participate in the current discussion she'd inadvertently joined. Any other time and she might have been truly interested in Deck Officer Tibbert's proposed solutions to the various problems that extreme temperatures presented during equipment maintenance. Now, however, she could do little more than try to hide her distraction.

Their discussion instantly broke up when the warning blare of a siren, heralding the return of a speeder, echoed throughout the cavem. Leia could feel her heart suddenly thump harder as she turned in time to see the small two-man craft glide into the hanger bay and slow to a halt in the center of the flightdeck. It was instantly swarmed over by deckhands and a medical corps.

Knowing she would only get in the way, Leia resisted the impulse to join in the pressing crowd. Instead she impatiently remained at a distance and looked on as Chewbacca, heads taller than any of the human personnel, effortlessly waded through the Rebels. He reached the side of the craft just as the cockpit canopy began to rise up on its rear hinges.

Zev, the Rebel pilot, stripped off his flight headgear and awkwardly twisted around within the tight confines of the cockpit. He kneeled in his seat and helped the Wookiee to gingerly lift the unconscious body of Commander Skywalker from the gunner's position of the speeder. Once clear of the cockpit, Chewbacca swiftly lowered Luke down to the medics waiting below.

Leia watched in horror as the medical team rushed past her in the direction of the base medcenter. Though she experienced an urge to follow, Leia returned her gaze to the speeder. Solo was levering himself up and out from the same cramped seat he'd shared with the injured Skywalker. Chewie was right there to gather the Corellian up in a mighty embrace before helping him clamber down to the icy floor.

Leia closed her eyes and nearly sobbed aloud with relief as she finally allowed the pent-up tension to flow out of her in a tidal wave. Han seemed fine and Luke would surely recover--they'd all be fine now. Drawing a deep breath, she opened her eyes in time to see the gradually dispersing crowd suddenly part to the sides, forming a path for Han as he headed in her direction. Any relief, along with her previously gathered courage she'd rallied for her confession, dissipated like so much steam in the cold air.

Han closed the distance between them, his color-shifting eyes focused so intently on her own that Leia could do little more than return the gaze; she felt her knees weaken and her surroundings fade away to unimportance under the power of that hungry stare.

Han's serious expression lingered as he seemed to savor the moment; then, his firmly compressed lips melted into a little smirk and he broke their mutual silence with a simple request: "Don't give me another medal, Princess."

Leia was forced to shift her attention from contemplating his smile to analyzing his words. She prematurely opened her mouth only to find herself without of a verbal retort. Han clearly took pride in that achievement for his smile broadened.

_Say something, you idiot!_ Leia searched frantically for a safe topic, before settling on his health. "You should report to the medcenter, Captain." That wasn't what she'd wanted to say, and she could tell by Han's fading expression of amiability that he'd expected something better as well.

"I'll survive, Your Worship." Visibly reaching an internal decision, Han shook his head. "I'm going to the _Falcon_ to take a long, hot shower. If you want me, you know where to find me." As if anticipating a positive response to his semi-serious invitation, Solo paused before turning towards his ship.

Leia watched Solo walk away. Never had she dreamed that telling Han how much she wanted and cared for him could be this difficult! Even her never-ending struggle to defeat the Empire had begun to seem less monumental.

One could surmise that the medcenter was the most comfortable chamber in the entire hidden Rebel base. It was certainly the warmest, and Leia appreciated the relative heat.

The tension was far from over, however. Han had evidently emerged from the freezing temperatures of a Hoth night with little more than numbed toes and an attitude, but Luke was still listed in critical condition with severe frostbite, hypothermia, a mild concussion, and a physical mauling that Leia had yet to hear an explanation for.

At the moment she, Chewbacca, Threepio and Artoo shared a tiny observation room connected to the surgical ward by a clear Plastiglaswindow. Han was still noticeably absent. For a fleeting moment she wished he were standing close beside her so she could feel his reassuring presence as she watched Too-Onebee, the Rebel base's surgeon droid, carefully strip away the blood-soaked thermal suit from Skywalker's inert body.

A more rational part of her mind quickly repressed that desire as she remembered her encounter with Han following his return. Leia felt her jaw clench in vexation at the memory. He'd walked away without another word, leaving her to mull over his suggestive taunt. What in the Maker's name had she ever seen in a man so uncivilized and uncouth?

Leia delicately tugged off one of her fitted thermal gloves and pressed her bare hand, fingers splayed and palm flat, against the clear partition separating her from the events in the next room. The medical droids had stripped Luke down to his undershorts in order to run diagnostics before immersing him in the healing bacta tank. Luke was in the best medical care the Rebel Alliance had access to and yet, she couldn't help feeling as if she could somehow help his healing. Maybe even ease his pain._ Luke, how many times does it have to be this close?_

Too often she'd taken his freely given friendship for granted. Guilt haunted her, for her thoughts had mostly centered around Han during the night. Luke deserved much more devotion from her than that. He shared her beliefs, her convictions, her hopes and desires to win this costly war. Why couldn't she have fallen in love with _him_?

The door at the far wall behind her slid open with a hiss, and Leia turned to see Han Solo. His gaze went straight to her then shifted to the scenario behind the sheet of Plastiglas as he entered the room.

Chewbacca, standing to one side, tipped his head and softly barked, Are you feeling better?

"Yeah," Han answered simply. He strode up to the clear wall, sharing yet another look with the princess as he neared her and Threepio. He nodded his head in the direction of the other room. "They say anything yet?"

Leia shook her head. Unable to make eye contact now that Han actually stood beside her, she looked down as she pulled her gloves back on. Han's brow furrowed slightly at her quite response. Not at all like the Leia Organa he'd come to know and bicker with. He thought she appeared a little flushed, too, but he opted not to mention the observation.

Artoo-Detoo rolled forward to settle beside See-Threepio as he emitted a short stream of beeps and whistles. Threepio patted his companion's domed top. "Of course, Artoo." The golden droid turned back to Han. "Captain Solo, Artoo and I would like to express our relief at seeing you back safely, and we would also like to thank you for rescuing Master Luke."

Han gave a little shrug. "You're welcome, Goldenrod." Irresistibly, his eyes were drawn back down to the petite woman beside him. She hadn't uttered but a handful of words to him since his return, and yet it was so obvious that she had a lot to say. She always did.

There had been moments last night when the howling wind had rattled his and Luke's little survival tent so badly that Han had morbidly laid odds on it's collapse. During the long night he'd had too much time to think about the structural integrity of their shelter, the possibility that he'd never see his partner and ship again. And the likelihood that Luke would not hold out until help came with the dawn.

He'd also thought about Leia. Constantly. No one had ever before managed to capture his soul to the point of obsession. A shame she had to be so damned frustrating most of the time.

"Your Highness," a gentle voice came over the PA speakers within their observation chamber, "you requested an update on Commander Skywalker's condition?"

"Yes, Too-Onebee." Leia redirected her attention to the medical droid in the next room. "Will he be all right?"

"I believe so, your Highness, but it is too soon to know at this moment whether he will make a complete recovery. Momentarily we will immerse him in the tank. The bacta will help speed up his own healing functions."

"Very well. Please keep me updated, Too-Onebee."

"Of course, your Highness."

The small group watched in silence as the medical droids worked on their friend. Within moments, Luke's limp body was suspended within a harness, then slowly lowered in to the reddish, living ooze known universally as bacta. Within moments of being submerged, he began to thrash about.

Seriously disturbed by Luke violent motions, Leia finally spoke to Han. "Why is he fighting like that?"

"You ever been in a bacta tank?" Han rhetorically asked, his tone gentle.

Leia looked up to meet Solo's hazel eyes, instinctively knowing that he was about to speak from experience. "No. How do you--"

Han cut her off with surgical precision. "Bacta works wonders, but it has to enter every damaged cell to do it. It's not the greatest feeling, sweetheart."

Feeling torn between a desire to probe further into Han's rarely hinted at past and her concern for Luke's condition, Leia turned back to watch Skywalker struggle against the painfull onslaught of healingfluid. "What happened to his face?" she again wondered aloud, knowing that something besides cold weather had inflicted the deep gashes on his handsome features.

"I don't know." Han let out a deep breath as he raised a supporting hand to lean against the window wall. He tucked his other hand into his hip pocket. "I found him like that. He kept muttering something about that old Ben Kenobi and somebody named Yoda or something. He was already in shock."

"Han, I ..." She'd been about to thank him, even tell him everything she'd been carrying around with her like a weight, but her train of thought was lost as she became inadvertently fascinated by the expression of wonder that suddenly transformed the spacer's face.

Han straightened up away from the wall and pulled his hand from his pocket, holding it up to display a small, golden coin. He'd almost forgotten all about the damned thing! "I think you dropped this a few days back." Han closely watched her surprised reaction; the crimson blush that instantly tinted her smooth cheeks could have glowed in the dark, and it definitely solved the question of ownership. Impishly inspired, he cocked his head and flashed a winning smile. "What were you doing with something like this anyway?"

Hypnotized by the coin he still held between thumb and forefinger, Leia experienced an uneven combination of confusion, embarrassment and excitement.

"Is this your way of keeping me in your pocket, Princess?"

Leia broke her own personal record as she felt her jaw drop yet again. She was beginning to feel like a Calamari too long out of water. Growing indignant, she stuck out a hand to take the token back. "Listen, flyboy--"

Han pulled his hand out of her reach. "Ah-ah-ah," he teased. With a merciless grin he proceeded to tuck the membership token back into his pocket, then patted it with exaggerated affection.

Provoked beyond tolerance and still incapable of coming up with a single word (only Han Solo seemed to have such a profound and unfailing ability to leave her speechless) Leia swiftly debated her options. A strategic and dignified retreat was definitely in order. She plotted and executed a course for the exit.

"Was it something I said?" Han queried with an innocence that should have strained some major muscle group.

Leia had already reached the door, but his insincere question made her reflexively spin around. Damned if she was going to let him get the last word in this time! "Keep the coin. You're going to need it if you think Rieekan's going to let you off this planet any time soon." She paused long enough to see Han's expression transform yet again and was gratified to see that it wasn't a smile this time.

Leia once again found herself waiting, but this time she welcomed the delay as the medcenter's untroubled peace surrounded her. She desperately needed the quiet to regain her composure and reflect on the past few days. She felt herself on a careening course over which she had no control. Reacting to events, as opposed to anticipating them, was a poor way to run a government, but an even worse way to run her life, and she knew it. Somehow, the knowing didn't make the stopping any easier.

Luke groaned and shifted in his slumber. Watching him from the opposite side of the tiny recovery room, Leia felt her concen for him flood back to momentanly overcome her bout of self-evaluation. Too-Onebee had reassured her that Luke was quickly on his way to a full recovery, but she still couldn't ease the ache of worry. Although his healing was quite miraculous, she suspected that he would always bear the scars that even bacta could not erase.

Realizing that Luke was still sound asleep, Leia settled back into the chair she'd occupied since he'd been removed from the surgery ward and taken off the critical list. It was just as well that Luke wasn't conscious; she wasn't in the most sociable mood yet. She could feel her blood begin to simmer at the mere thought of Han Solo.

Where was Solo now? Leia felt a wicked grin creep over her face as she drew her legs up to sit atop them, then propped her bent elbow on an arm rest and a chin upon her fist. Probably chewing General Rieekan's ear off at that very moment. _Good for Rieekan! _She was tired of having to shoulder that rather onerous privilege alone. Let Rieekan deal with the troublesome spacer this time.

_Spacers!_ She'd forgotten all about that damned coin! Han had naturally misinterpreted how or why she'd owned such an incriminating item (considering she'd only held the coin for countable seconds before losing it, 'owned' was hardly the word!). He was totally right and completely wrong, of course, but it would be a wasted effort to explain that the lucky charm had been an unsolicited gift from a sadly deluded friend. From his very manner Leia knew he believed he held an advantage over her. Well, he was in for a rude awakening, if he'd indeed tracked Rieekan down.

She couldn't deny a deep, relatively new curiosity for the spacer sub-culture, and maybe one could reason that Han was the major source of that interest, but did he have to be so insufferably smug about it? Yes, she liked being around him and relished his vitality and sense of humor, but his ever-flexing ego was enough to make her bend durasteel with her teeth! She was accustomed to chivalrous courting, not aggressive bombardment. She was used to nice men who catered to her wishes, not snide backtalkers who made proposals that only fueled her fantasies. Was something wrong with her, to feel so attracted to a man so unlike anything she'd ever considered normal?

"Leia?"

The princess snapped out of her reverie to find Luke wide awake and studying her from his reclined position. "You were far away," Luke observed with a weak smile.

Leia avoided the prompting statement as she gracefully unfolded herself from the chair. A moment later she settled on the edge of his bunk and affectionately brushed a lock of blonde hair from his forehead. "How are you feeling?"

Appreciating her gentle touch, Luke closed his eyes. "Much better, but don't stick me in that blasted bacta tank again."

"Don't pull another stunt like that, and you've got a deal."

Luke had to chuckle and instantly regreted the movement as remnant pain reminded him of what he'd done the night before. "Never thought I'd ever miss Tatooine, but it sure beats this place."

"I know what you mean. Imagine, I used to **_like_** snow when I was a child." Without thinking, she reached to carefully tuck the corners of Luke's blanket closer around him. "So, are you going to tell me what happened out there?"

"I don't really know," Luke muttered. "I don't know what attacked me, but--"

"You were attacked?"

Leia's dark eyes grew wide and Luke realized that the base personnel still hadn't fully pieced together the events of the night. He shifted into a more comfortable position from which to talk. "Yeah, whatever it was whomped me right off my tauntaun. I didn't stick around for a formal introduction, but I'm pretty sure I was lunch."

"What was it? Could you describe it to someone in Security?" Abruptly all business, Leia felt concern for the Rebel patrols that were constantly sent out on tauntaun or on foot to conduct surveillance. They needed to be warned if some native predator was on the prowl.

"Sure, I think so. Give me a little time to think, okay?"

"Of course." Leia offered a little smile of apology for being so methodical. "Whenever you feel ready."

Luke nodded in acceptance, then frowned slightly. "I don't even know how I got back here. I remember..." He sighed at his attempt to describe an indescribable sensation. "It was a weird dream, maybe, but I remember Ben Kenobi saying something about going to someplace called Dagobah and finding a Jedi Master named Yoda."

Despite the Empire's genocide of the Jedi and the campaign of propaganda against the Force that followed, most citizens stillpracticed the general teachings. Leia had been no exception, and had been raised with a healthy belief in the Force. She knew all the histories and legends, yet she couldn't help feeling a little uneasy as she listened to Luke speak of a very personal mystical experience. It was one thing to watch contraband holodisks about para-normal Force-users; it was something else entirely to know one this closely. She felt a tickling down her spine and reached a hand back to rub the nape of her neck. She seriously hoped he wasn't experiencing delusions of wish-fulfillment; he'd suffered a blow to the head, after all.

"Han found you last night," Leia smoothly changed subjects.

Alarmed, Luke propped himself up a little higher onto his pillow. "Is he all right? It was so cold and--"

"He's fine," she soothingly intoned, more concerned about Luke's present agitation over Solo than with her own. She reconsidered her words after a moment and shrugged. "Well, he's normal. Normal for Han, anyway."

Relieved, Luke easily saw through the princess' attempt to sound uninvolved. "Status quo?" he asked in mild amusement.

Leia's attitude instantly transformed to self-conscious denial; Luke could be so inconveniently perceptive at times. "I really don't know what you mean."

Luke felt his own smile grow. She knew better than to try that tired old line on him. How long had they known each other? "Come on, Leia. Han and I were in the hanger bay when--"

The door to the little cubicle suddenly swished open, causing Leia to practically leap off the edge of Luke's bunk. With a whirring of servo-motors, See-Threepio shuffled into the room, followed closely by his ever-present companion, Artoo. "Master Luke, sir, it's good to see you fully functional again."

Artoo-Detoo rolled forward and twirled in a tight circle, emitting a string of overenthusiastic beeps and whistles that echoed within the room.

"Artoo expresses his relief, also."

Before Luke could voice a reply, the door slid open once again and Han Solo, with Chewbacca in tow, stepped in. Without sparing a glance of acknowledgment for the princess, he leaned over Luke and gave him a healthy poke on the shoulder. "How you feeling, kid? You don't look so bad to me. In fact, you look strong enough to pull the ears off a gundark."

"Thanks to you," Luke said with honest gratitude. He was beginning to realize the risk Solo had taken by rescuing him; that was definitely above and beyond the call of friendship.

"That's two you owe me, junior." Han held up two fingers toemphasis his point. Without further preamble, Han slowly pivoted on his heel, propped himself on the edge of Luke's bunk, and focused his attention (along with a killer smile) on the only female occupant of the recover room.

Leia, standing off to one side, crossed her arms over her chest in a pose that was more defensive than nonchalant. She recognized trouble when she saw it. Han Solo was trouble incarnate.

"Well, Your Worship, looks like you managed to keep me around for a little while longer."

Leia physically restrained herself from reacting to his low blow by gritting her teeth. Of all the names Solo regularly tagged on her, he knew she hated that one the most. He'd obviously lost the shouting match with Rieekan, but was far from capitulation; his cocky stance shouted 'This isn't over yet'. He had resorted to twisting events to fit his own warped agenda.

"I had nothing to do with it. General Rieekan thinks it's too dangerous for any ships to leave the system until we've activated the energy shield."

"That's a good story." Looking far too satisfied with himself, Han deliberately dropped the final sabbacc card he'd been holding. "_**I**_ think you just can't bare to let a _**gorgeous**_ guy like me out of your sight."

Leia's internal sirens were too late in sounding a warning of Han's verbal attack. At hearing her own words tossed back in such a casual manner, Leia felt dizzy from embarrassment, anger, and elemental fear. Oh, Han's assault couldn't have worked better if he'd planned it. In fact, Leia was positive he'd done just that! He'd restrained himself for over three days, scheming, until she'd concluded that he'd indeed never heard her broadcast confession. He'd waited for the right moment, then pounced with all the lethal accuracy of a wild pantera.

Leia's tactical retreat threatened to become a full-scale rout. Time for a defensive maneuver. "I don't know where you get your delusions, laser brains."

Chewbacca let out the Wookiee equivalent of a belly laugh, evidently tickled by the new name, then glanced down at his captain, awaiting his rebuttal.

Solo shot a disgusted look at his co-pilot. "Laugh it up, furball." He'd obviously expected such a dodge from the princess, for he literally sprang off the bunk and moved to her side. "But you didn't see us alone in the south passage." As if posing for a family portrait, he wrapped a familiar arm around her shoulders and tugged her in tight to his side, then flashed a most pleased smile to their small audience. "She expressed her true feelings for me."

"My--!" It was quite possibly the first time Leia had ever sputtered. Like a womp rat backed into a comer, she struck out at the smuggler with a well-aimed knuckle into the ribs. He immediately released her and moved back towards Luke. She couldn't see his face or else she might have been slightly mollified by the sheepish expression he flashed to Chewie and Luke. As it was, she felt provoked beyond tolerance. "Why, you stuck-up...half-witted...scruffy-looking..._**nerf-herder**_!"

Han swung around. "Who's scruffy-looking?"

Leia abruptly ran out of steam. That was the last taunt she'd expected a reaction from, and she was totally unprepared. Han shared a conspiratorial glance with the prone Tatooin before returning his accusing gaze to Leia.

"I must've hit pretty close to the mark to get her all riled up like that, huh, kid?"

That was the final insult. She waited for Luke to rush to her defense as per usual, but was rudely disappointed when Luke answered Han's rhetorical question with an affirrnative nod. The traitor was changing sides in the midst of battle!

"Well," Leia stated with a finality that threatened retribution for the unexpected betrayal, "I guess you don't know everything about women yet." Not sure which man she was more perturbed with (Luke had obviously chosen to continue goading her into a confession), she directed her broad statement towards both. Leia neared Luke's bunk then suddenly and purposefully bent over Luke, steadied his head with both of her hands, and planted a firm and lengthy kiss on his lips. When she finally broke off the embrace and pulled away, she glanced up to be rewarded with a glimpse of Solo's expression; he wasn't fast enough in masking his shock with forced amusement. _Sort that out, flyboy!_

Maybe I've still got a chance at that kiss after all. Chewbacca speculatively barked, breaking the stunned silence.

Too exasperated to bother with an answer to the Wookiee's quip, Leia moved around the little clutch of shocked onlookers and marched towards the exit. She didn't need this sort of abuse, and she certainly had better things to do! She would see to it personally that Solo was given clearance to leave. Her heart would rip in two, but she didn't want to care about that any more.

Leia passed through the exit, then paused in the center of the main corridor and glanced up towards the carve-out ceiling as the public address system crackled to life from a hidden speaker. "Headquarters personnel, report to Command Center." It was an odd command. Something was wrong on the base. Her breathing constricted with palpable tension. She picked up her pace towards the command center.

"Leia." Despite the fact that he'd used her given name, Leia kept walking, refusing to acknowledge the baritone voice. The hallway was deserted, of course, when she needed a crowd within which to disappear. "Leia, wait up!" The princess plowed to a stop and impatiently turned around, fists set on her hips, poised for further battle. Han automatically assumed the same stance. But then, he visibly relaxed and closed the distance between them, his gait loose and non-threatening. "We have to talk."

A little disarmed by his actions, tantamount to a truce, Leia reflexively soften her own posture and tone. "There's nothing more to talk about."

"You're wrong." Han stopped within a meter of her and seemed to mull over an elaboration. "You know why I can't stay," he stated matter-of-factly.

Leia felt her face grow warm under his intense gaze. "Yes, I know." Her voice nearly betrayed her distress; after everything they'd been through together, she still couldn't believe this was happening. "You've been telling me WHY for the past two years." There was bitter irony in her defiance.

Han nodded, not attempting to dodge her verbal jab. "I deserve that."

"Headquarters personnel." The loud words echoed down the corridor once again. "Report to the Command Center."

Leia restrained herself from fidgeting. There was an emergency on the base, but she was facing a crisis of her own right there in the hallway. Unable to comprehend Han's uncharacteristic passivity, Leia felt her own hands clench at her sides. All she knew was that she couldn't go on like this any longer. "I'll see that you get your clearance to leave."

"Leia," Han ground out, his frustration beginning to show through again.

"I don't have time for this, Han." She began to turn away.

"Sooner or later you've got to find the time!"

Reflexively offended by his presumptive claim, Leia turned to indignantly narrowed her dark eyes. How dare he? Who was abandoning whom? Wasn't he the one who could think of nothing but leaving? "May the Force be with you," Leia said, nearly whispering the ancient farewell. Tearing her gaze away from his hazel eyes was no small task, but the princess turned her back to Solo and headed for the Command Center.

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